


For All the Gold in Erebor

by malum_animi



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Caring Thranduil, Dis is a mother on a mission, Do Not Separate The Heirs Of Durin, Durincest, F/M, M/M, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malum_animi/pseuds/malum_animi
Summary: When Erebor fell, Dis had been the only one to appeal to Thranduil for supplies and help. She could understand why the Elvenking had turned away after all, why doom two kingdoms in the same day? With the lives of her sons on the line though, Dis would appeal the Elvenking once more, but by doing so, will unearth secrets that her and Thorin have spent decades trying to keep buried.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Dís/Thranduil, Fíli/Kíli (Tolkien)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Dis has seen Thranduil, she had been merely a child, peering through her mother’s skirts as the Elvenking and his sons came to pay tribute to her grandfather. She had thought him a strange thing, so tall and smooth, and so unlike anyone else she had ever seen. Her brothers had told her that if she didn’t mind, that the elves might steal her away, and her mother had had to stifle a laugh as Dis has asked her in a whisper if she had been good enough to avoid being kidnapped. Their whispers had caught the attention of the Elvenking though and Dis had puffed up threateningly as Thranduil had looked over at them for just a moment. Looking back on it, she was sure she had seen the barest hint of a smile on his face before his cool gaze had turned back to Thror and Thrain. 

The second time she had seen Thranduil was also the first time she had met him. Her dwarfling strapped to her chest and still smelling of dragonfire, she had marched into Greenwood alone, using whatever bearing she had as a Princess of Erebor and demanded an audience with the Elvenking. She was as angry at the percieved betrayal as the rest of her family, but she also knew that they wouldn’t get far without supplies and help for their wounded. Her father nor brothers knew she had come, and she knew if they had, she would have been barred from even leaving their tent.

She didn’t count the number of times she saw Thranduil between their first meeting and when the dwarves finally left the desolation. Only that she had been shocked that he had been so hands on with the gathering and distributing of supplies. They had had to work at night, when she was sure that Thror and Thrain were asleep or otherwise busy. The fight she’d had with Thorin was bad enough, she couldn’t imagine going up against Thrain or her still gold-addled grandfather. 

Thorin had only agreed to let the elves in when Dis had pointed out that her little Fili wasn’t the only dwarfling they had, and what good would fleeing Erebor be if they all died from starvation and infection? Even he had to admit that she had had a point. Not that her brother had agreed easily, and she was sure that if looks could kill, Thorin’s glares at each and every elf that silently entered the camp would have incinerated them as quickly as dragonfire did. 

The last time she would see Thranduil for nearly a hundred years, he was laughing, drunk off his own stores of wine. The dwarves were leaving in the morning, and Dis had gone into the Greenwood one last time, to thank him for his help. She had manners after all. He had offered her a glass, and what sort of dwarf would she have been if she had refused? They had drank long into the night, speaking loosely of lost homes and lost loves. It had nearly made the Elvenking seem mortal. She didn’t remember much of the night, only that she had slipped out his bed the next morning and rejoined her family, shaking her head when Thorin asked about her whereabouts. 

She didn’t see Thranduil. Not as they passed through the Greenwood, nor as his guards saw them through to the other side. And nearly a year later, she did not see him in the face of her youngest son, her little Kili. Who was Durin through and through, all dark eyes and dark hair, stubborn as his brother and uncle. She didn’t see him in the way he wrestled with Fili and stole sweets from Thorin’s lunches. 

Dis tried not to see him in the way Kili was drawn to the bow, how he wouldn’t be swayed by the taunts of Fili and the others in his training group. How he could scale a tree better than any other dwarf in the Ered Luin or his seeming lack of stone sense. 

But Thorin had. Her dear, stubborn older brother had. And he’d sent the boys off to Dwalin, making sure they were well away before the yelling started. They had fought nearly through the night, and it would be the first time Dis would lay a hand on him out of anger. For how dare he imply that she had been taken advantage of, that she hadn’t known her own mind. She was a Princess of Erebor, and if she didn’t wish to lay with someone, she wouldn’t. 

In the end, Thorin had named her sweet boys his heirs, pronounced them both Princes of Erebor and the Blue Mountains and they didn’t speak of the way Kili’s beard wasn’t growing yet, or how he was too thin and too tall for a normal dwarf. He was a son of Durin, and neither Thorin or Dis would hear otherwise. 

And Dis didn’t think of Thranduil, there was no need. Kili was son of Vili, son of a father that his brother didn’t even remember. So she didn’t think on the quiet and cold king of the Greenwood. Not until her brother came to her, late in the night and spoke of reclaiming their home. Of slaying the worm and their people wandering no more. Of her sons being princes in the richest Dwarven kingdom. Only then did her mind turn to Thranduil. Dis had lost much in her life, her home, her grandparents, parents, brother and husband. She would not lose her sons too. For all the hatred between dwarves and elves, she didn’t think even they would turn away their own child. 

She didn’t act quickly, she had waited, held off until she had gotten word that Thorin’s company had crossed the Misty Mountains. Then she sent her letter with one of the few ravens that had survived Smaug’s destruction. She sent it and hoped that Thranduil was the same elf who had spoken so proudly of his sons, and that the desolation of the worm hadn’t infected the forests of the Greenwood as well. For hope was all she had now and she would trade all the gold and gems in Erebor for the lives of her sons. 


	2. Chapter 2

Thranduil was readying himself for battle, having turned his troops away from Erebor and towards the coming armies of orcs and goblins when on his guards slipped into the tent, clearing his throat a little to get his king's attention. Thranduil paused, turning a little and raising a brow at the elf who had interrupted him. 

“A letter for you Sire, from a Princess Dis.” He said, handing out a battered and torn roll of parchment. “It came via raven just a few minutes ago. Though it bears the seal of Erebor, it came from the west.” he told Thranduil, bowing shortly and leaving once his king had taken the letter from him. 

Thranduil frowned as he looked down at the letter, settling into his seat and opening it. He hadn’t heard anything of the Princess since the dwarves had first left Erebor. Though he knew she had sons, the young dwarves that had been with Oakenshield were obviously hers. He had remembered the eldest, though he’d been just a babe, and the youngest looks far too much like his mother and uncle. 

_King_ _Thranduil_ _of the Greenwood_

_I do not know if you care to remember me, the stubborn Princess who marched into your kingdom in search of aid, but I remember you. I thought you_ _cold_ _then, but I quickly learned otherwise._ _I do not know if you’re the same as you once were, and for all I know, you will toss this letter in the fire instead of reading it._

_What I do know is that my brother is marching to his death. With my sons in tow. They are fine sons of Durin, but they are my boys, and I have lost too much already. If Thorin gets himself killed, so be it. But I beg you, please do not let my_ _sons_ _fall too._

_My youngest,_ _Kili_ _, he is not all that he appears to be. I remember little of that night, for your wine is strong even for a_ _dwarrowdam_ _, but I do remember leaving your bed. He doesn’t know, only Thorin and I do._ _I never planned to tell him, but I would rather the world know that he is your son before I see him fall in defense of his uncle and brother._ _After all, where one goes, the other follows._

_If blood alone will not move you, then maybe this will. As Princess of Erebor, I swear that if you protect my boys, you may have anything from that mountain, for none of it is worth the lives of Fili and Kili._

_Dis, daughter of_ _Thrain_ _, son of_ _Thror_ _, Princess Under the Mountain_

Well. That complicated matters. He remembered her of course, how could he not? And he remembered their night together as well. He hadn’t thought anything of it, in all his centuries, he’d never heard of a child born of an elf and dwarf. But it seemed the line of Durin had surprised him once more. He could see it, now that he knew. His guards had confiscated a bow and quiver from him, and even Thranduil knew enough about dwarves to know that they valued the sword and axe over archery. For a prince of their line to have chosen the bow as his weapon of choice was rare indeed. Not to mention his lack of beard. He would have thought him a child if he had seen the boy—Kili—in any other environment. 

But not even Thorin Oakenshield was stupid enough to bring a child on such a dangerous quest. No, armed with the letter from Dis, Thranduil could see the elf in him. But he would deal with that news later. First he needed to figure out how to ensure the survival of Thorin. He was sure the princes would follow their uncle to his death and give their own lives for him. As much as it rankled him, Thranduil would have to keep Thorin from throwing himself on the nearest orc blade. 

Sighing, he tucked the letter away and grabbed his sword, buckling it around his waist. Stepping out of the tent he motioned for the first solider he saw “Find my son and Tauriel. Tell them once the battle starts, if they see the young dwarf princes, to see that they make it through safely.” he ordered and the solider bowed. 

“And you Sire? What shall I tell Legolas?” 

“That the line of Durin will not fall today.” Thranduil said, sweeping away and mounting his elk. 

~~ 

And the line of Durin did not fall that day. Nor the next, even though Thorin’s injuries were so bad that Thranduil hadn’t taken no for an answer when he’d strode into the healing tent, his own healers hurrying after him. Though in the end it had taken Fili, who was in a cot next to his uncle, speaking up and ordering the dwarves to let Thranduil help for them to lower their arms and let him near their king. 

Thorin had taken a sword to the gut, and while smaller injuries littered his body, that was the one that would kill him if not treated properly. He turned his healers loose on the king before turning to the princes, eyeing them up critically. “You both seem relatively uninjured, my healers can focus on Thorin then,.” he commented, the only thing standing out to him was the brace on Fili’s leg. 

Fili returned his stare, sitting up straight and Thranduil supposed that with Thorin unconscious, Fili was the one in charge. “We are, thanks to your son and captain.” he said warily. 

Thranduil nodded once “Then they did their jobs.” he said before turning back to Thorin, conversing in quiet Sindarin with the healers before taking a step back “It seems that your king will live, Prince Fili. When he wakes, inform him that I must meet with him immediately.” 

With that, Thranduil was gone, leaving Fili staring after him in confusion. 

~

On the other side of Mirkwood, no more than a dozen dwarves entered the forest, the dwarrowdam leading them pushing them regardless of their tired and spent ponies. Dis had sons to see, and nothing was going to stop her. 


	3. Chapter 3

When Thorin woke, he wasn’t sure where he was at first. This wasn’t the Halls, not unless a stained and ripped tent was supposed to bed the splendor of Mahal. His second thought was to wonder how he had survived. He’d been run through, he remembered that much, the blinding pain in his stomach and the scream of Bilbo as Thorin had stumbled back. He’d managed to muster enough strength to take Azog’s head while the orc had been gloating before collapsing onto the ice. 

“Uncle?” 

The hopeful voice to his left had him opening his eyes fully, turning his head to see Kili sitting on the side of an empty cot. He breathed out in relief. Kili was alive and whole. Which meant Fili must have been too, else Kili would have been in an inconsolable mess. “Aye. Fili?” he managed to ask. 

“He’s okay. We both are. Fee broke his leg, but Oin says he’ll heal just fine thanks to Thranduil. Oh, Fee said to tell you if you woke up before he got back that Thranduil wants to talk to you.” he said, oblivious to his Uncle’s confusion. 

“Thranduil...healed Fili?” Thorin asked, wondering if he’d suffered a head wound as well. The pompous elvenking healing the very dwarves he despised? Well, Thorin supposed he could have done it out of spite and to ensure that he was indebted to the elf. 

“Yeah! Healed you and Fili both. Wouldn’t take no for an answer when he and Bilbo brought you back to the camp, Fili had to tell the others to stand down.” Kili told him with a grin, though he sobered a moment later “Oin said that you would have died if he hadn’t. You were too far gone for even Dain’s healers.” he said quietly. 

Which would have left Fili king, something he knew his oldest nephew didn’t want, even though when the time came, he would reign proudly. Thorin sighed, grimacing a little as the motion tugged the stitches in his stomach. “I suppose I’ll speak with him then.” he grumbled. 

“Damn right you will.” Came the voice from the tent and Thorin’s head whipped around so quickly that he nearly made himself dizzy. 

“Mother!” Kili cried out, jumping from the cot and throwing himself at Dis, who caught him in a fierce hug. 

“Oh my sweet boy, look at you.” she said, pulling back enough to look him over. A bruise stretched across one side of his face, but he was remarkably well considering the battle she’d been told about. “Go find your brother, I left him by the fires. I need to have a talk with your uncle.” she said, turning a cold glare on her brother. 

Thorin managed not to react other than swallowing hard and wondering if it was too late to have Thranduil undo his healing. He was sure he’d rather be run through again than face the full force of his sister’s wrath. 

Kili winced a little when he let her go and nodded before he darted out of the tent, leaving the two of them alone. 

“Dis--” Thorin started, only to fall silent when Dis raised his hand in warning. 

“Don’t. Don’t start Thorin. You nearly died. My sons could have died. For what? Your pride? Fili told me what happened. I thought better of you, I thought you were above the curse. That damned stone ought to be thrown back into the pit we found it in!” She snapped. 

Thorin just looked down at his lap. “I know.” he said quietly. 

Dis paused. She’d been expecting more out of him than that. “Excuse me?” she asked, frowning deeply at her brother. 

“I know. Once I freed myself from it’s hold, I decided that if I lived, I would see to it that the Arkenstone is returned to the mountain. It’s brought nothing but tragedy to our family since it was found.’ he muttered. “I cannot change the past, sister. I cannot change that I fell to the curse.” Thorin said quietly, looking up at Dis after a long moment “All I can do is move forward and hope it doesn’t take me again. And if it does, then Fili will make a fine King.” 

Dis stared at him for a moment before she sniffled and darted forward, carefully throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. “Don’t ever do that again. I’ve lost too much. I can’t lose you too.” 

Thorin hugged her back just as tightly, ignoring the pain from sitting up to catch her. “Shh little sister, it’ll take more than a orc blade to kill me.” he murmured. He pulled back after a moment though and settled into his cot again “Though I’ve been told I have Thranduil to thank, much to my...displeasure.’ he grumbled. 

Dis wiped her eyes and snorted softly “You’ve Thranduil to thank for more than just that. I wrote to him. And seeing how the three of you are still living, I’m going to assume that my letter got to him in time.” 

“It did indeed, Princess.” 

Thranduil didn’t bother announcing himself as he casually walked into the tent, eyeing Thorin up “Hm. You’ll live to see another day.” he said before turning to Dis “I received a very interesting letter, just before the battle began.’ he continued, pulling the parchment from his robe. 

“You told him.” Thorin growled out and Dis huffed. 

“Yes I told him. I had to ensure that at least they would live and I’d rather proclaim to every dwarf in Middle Earth that my son is half Elf than bury them.” she said with another glare and Thorin’s mouth closed with a snap. 

“Thank you, for assisting.” Dis said as she turned back to Thranduil. 

Thranduil tilted his head in acknowledgment “Elves value children as highly as dwarves do, I wouldn’t let a son of mine die if I could help it.” he said quietly, eyes sliding over to Thorin for just a moment, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips “Even if I must save those who run straight into swords in order to do it.” 

Thorin glared and Dis had to hide a snicker from him as he grumbled. “Fine. Your deed is accomplished. You can go back to your woods now.” he muttered, shifting a little in his cot. He got the uneasy feeling that Dis and the damned elf were ganging up on him. 

Thranduil simply raised a brow at Thorin, ignoring him in favor of giving his attention to Dis again “I find that I would like to meet this new son of mine. From what I hear, he was fierce in battle. Legolas has told me that he held his own with Bolg for an incredible amount of time before they were able to reach and assist him in taking Azog's spawn down.” 

Dis puffed up proudly “He’s as fierce as Durin himself, he and his brother. They do their mother proud.” she said, taking Thranduil’s arm when he offered it to her “Come then, I’d like to hear more of this battle, as fierce as they are, my sons are also prone to embellishment.” she chuckled. 

Thorin could only watch and rub his temples as they left him alone in his tent. The damn Elf—and his traitorous sister—were going to be the death of him. 

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't beta'd, so if you see an glaring errors, please feel free to point them out to me!


End file.
